


A Fearless Moral Inventory

by Butterfly



Series: Scenes from a Resurrection Story [10]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Background Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh, Gen, Julia Wicker/23rd Timeline William "Penny" Adiyodi (mentioned), Quentin Coldwater/Alice Quinn (mentioned) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 15:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18719566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly/pseuds/Butterfly
Summary: Alice considers her options.





	A Fearless Moral Inventory

**Author's Note:**

> Content warnings for: an anxiety attack, mentions of depression, suicidal ideation and suicide, and a character making judgements about other people's sexual and romantic choices in her head.

The physical kids' cottage was quiet, in an eerie sort of way. Alice honestly wasn't sure if that was normal these days or not. She'd spent the last three months in... mostly in the Library and, when not there, at the penthouse, so there was still a lot she hadn't gotten used to, after finally becoming part of the group again. So, the cottage was mostly quiet, but there was a sound from the kitchen, someone shuffling around and opening cabinets.

She poked her head in and was unsurprised to see Eliot, though she _was_ surprised at how disheveled he looked – just a blue-toned button-down shirt messily tucked into his pants, bare feet, hair curly and messy though still much- much shorter than the monster had worn it. “Um. Is Quentin around?” she asked, cautiously.

“Upstairs, my room,” Eliot said, and he was putting together a quick- a quick breakfast, then, for Quentin, though it was around five in the afternoon. He gave her a look, brief but sympathetic. “We didn't fuck, if you were wondering.”

Alice had, in fact, been wondering exactly that.

“Q is... Q is a little strange about sex when he's in a bad headspace.” Eliot poured two glasses of- of orange juice and set them on the tray next to the bowls of cereal and the spoons. “Which I'm sure you remember.”

“He wants it, but is kinda an asshole afterwards?” Alice suggested.

Eliot hummed a moment, then, “Well. _Want_ is a strong word. He uses it as a distraction, but feels like shit afterwards, so he takes it out on whoever indulged him. God, I still remember the fight he had with-” He paused, looked her over carefully, then continued, “-with Arielle over that.”

“Who- uh, who is Arielle?” Alice asked.

“She was his wife when we were living in Fillory's past for the mosaic quest,” Eliot said and there was- there was a lot he _wasn't_ saying when he said that, but she couldn't read Eliot well enough to- to know the right questions to ask to figure it out.

“I thought the two of you were- were together. A lifetime, you said.” Alice was being too pushy but, but Eliot was the one who'd brought it up, right? So maybe she was being just pushy enough.

“We were together, and Q was also married to Arielle,” Eliot said, picking up the tray. “We can talk about this more later, but I don't want to take too long down here. Q's expecting me.” He slipped past her, holding the tray above her head, and went back up the stairs.

For lack of anything better to do, Alice made herself dinner and ate it right there in the kitchen, not feeling ready to venture up the stairs herself. So. Q really was like her parents, then. Or, well, that wasn't fair. Q was like her parents in this _one specific thing_. Intellectually, Alice knew that it was possible to have- to have polyamorous relationships that were satisfying to everyone involved. She wasn't sure whether or not she could convince her heart that it was possible for her, though. And all of that was- was if Q even wanted it anymore and she wasn't sure she could convince herself of _that_ , either.

Earlier today, back in Fillory, she'd kissed him and he'd flinched away from her and it had- it had reminded her of his stillness at Brakebills South, when he'd woken back up in his own body and she'd been kissing him. Kissing past-him. Had he actually _wanted_ a relationship with her again or had he been using it the way he sometimes used sex, to distract himself from how shitty everything was?

If she asked him, would he even know the answer himself?

She blinked, and Penny and Julia were in the kitchen with her, and Julia looked around and, when she spotted Alice, stepped away from Penny hurriedly and asked, “Q?”

“Upstairs. Eliot's room.”

An approving smile bloomed on Julia's face at that and it... it made something painful squirm in the pit of Alice's stomach, and then Julia was bounding away from the kitchen, towards the stairs.

Alice looked over at Penny, who seemed... tired. “Everything okay?”

“Well, Coldwater has his shade and no extra ride-alongs, so I'm pretty thrilled about that,” Penny said, staring longingly out the door in the direction Julia had gone.

“Oh. We were worried about that?”

Penny snorted and shot her an amused look. “I was. Can't say I'm surprised that you weren't, considering.”

“Why would- oh. I'm the one who. Who brought him back without his shade. In your timeline.” This was not a conversation she wanted to have. Alice searched around for anything else and- “I kinda understand. You and Julia, I mean.”

“What?” The question was sharp, biting.

“You're looking at her and you see the shape of her and it's familiar and you want it, but it isn't- it isn't really the person you fell in love with,” Alice said. “And I get that. I think- I think that might be what I did with... with Quentin. Because he's not the person I fell in love with, not anymore. And I don't think- I don't think I can make him be _that_ Quentin again.”

“Julia is my soulmate,” Penny said, flatly. “She's the love of my fucking life, okay?”

“Um. I'm not sure if I- if I believe in soulmates at all but, but the Penny here, he managed to fall in love with someone else, you know?” Alice shrugged, tucked her hair behind her ears. “I just- sorry, I know it isn't my business. But I think I- I think I made a mistake and I think maybe you're making the same one and we- I don't know. If we don't talk about these things, then how do we ever deal with them?”

“She kisses the same way as my Julia,” he said, and shrugged. “She's as fucking smart, and curious, and she's just as loyal. I can- I see the differences but... but what made me fall in love with Julia is- is still there.”

“Okay,” Alice said, and his face was getting pretty, um, pretty depressing, so she opened an escape hatch. “So, are Kady and Margo coming back here or...?”

“They wanted to go to the apartment. I took them there about an hour ago,” Penny said and the relief on his face was like a scab, something that the part of her that remembered being a niffin wanted to poke at some more to see if she could make it bleed again.

“I wanted to- to talk to Quentin but would you be willing to take me there too, afterwards?” she asked. He huffed out an annoyed breath but then nodded. She smiled at him, best she could. “Thanks.”

Alice really didn't have any more excuses left, so she started up the stairs, heading toward Eliot's room. She stopped a little ways before she got to the open door, trying to screw up her courage.

“-why yellow is bad,” Julia was saying; it sounded like she was facing the door, every word coming through clearly. “Everyone talks about it being cheerful. Sunshine, kitchens. Stuff like that. My psych classes always pegged it as a positive color.”

There was a response from Quentin, but too quiet to hear more than the sound of his voice. Alice scooted a little bit closer.

“Are you feeling any that are good right now?” Julia asked. Another pause, then, “Oh. Is there anything I-”

Quentin again, and Alice could make out a handful of words – _time_ and _El_ and _sorry_.

“Don't worry about it, little Q,” Eliot said airily and she could almost imagine the expansive hand gesture. “Daddy's made all the arrangements.” And something else, too soft for her to hear.

And then there was- there was a burst of startled laughter from Quentin and a scandalized “ _Eliot!_ ” that rang out into the hallway. Alice was torn between being so very very glad to hear Q's laugh, and the deep deep flush that made her whole face heat up with second-hand embarrassment.

“Oh, my god! I love you, Q, you know that, but I do _not_ need to hear about your kinks, okay?” Julia said, but Alice could hear her giggling.

“It's not- it's- it's not a-” And she could just imagine how tomato-red Quentin must be right now and part of her wanted to... to storm in and- and protect him from his own humiliation. Except, except it sounded like he was still laughing, too. “I hate you both so much.”

Alice took another step closer, and- and now she could peek in the door and Q was- he was sitting up in Eliot's bed, sheets gathered around his waist. Shirtless and so, despite what Eliot had said earlier, Alice found herself looking him over for signs of- of sexual activity. His hair was mussed up, falling into his face as much as it could being that short, but he didn't seem- he didn't look like he'd had sex recently.

Eliot was leaning against the wall, attention fixed on Quentin, and that hunger in his eyes that had always- had really always been there, when he looked at Q. And he was- was tall and pretty and- and Quentin didn't flinch when Eliot touched him, which seemed so profoundly _unfair_ , considering- considering the way the monster had treated him.

Julia was cross-legged on the bed, one hand resting on top of a lump that was probably Quentin's ankle, and she was the one who looked over and said, “Oh. Alice. Hi. I guess that's my cue, _Q_. Heh. Q.” She giggled and Quentin made a face at her, and she leaned over and pressed a kiss against his cheek before she climbed off the bed.

He didn't flinch at that, either.

Alice turned sideways to let Julia pass by and she swallowed a little at the cold warning that Julia gave her as she left. _Everyone else might have forgiven you_ , that look said, _but I remember_.

She met Eliot's eyes and almost wanted to run away at how- how kindly he was looking at her, like he- like he felt _sorry_ for her and she remembered, with a flush, overhearing him say _poor little magic girl_ after she'd walked away from- from his little clique with Margo and Quentin, all the way back when she'd first started at Brakebills. And it was always- always so _ridiculous_ that Quentin had considered himself an unlikable nerd, when his best friends had been the two most talked-about people in the whole school.

“Oh, hey, Alice, you can- you can sit down if you want,” Quentin said, and she turned towards him gratefully, and he was patting the space next to him. She shot another look at Eliot, who didn't seem bothered, and carefully settled herself on the edge of the bed, just out of reach.

“Thanks. I was hoping we could talk in private.” She couldn't quite keep it from sounding like she was asking permission.

“I could go ask Julia for stories about baby Q,” Eliot said, words drawled out and teasing. “If you want me out of your hair?”

Quentin hesitated, his gaze flicking between Alice's hands and Eliot's general vicinity. “Um- I think that's- maybe you could stay a little closer than that? You could go do your weirdly-long morning routine. Or. It's not morning, I guess. But-”

“I could take another bath,” Eliot said, thoughtfully, playing with one of his rings. “Hmm, scented maybe – would you prefer french-vanilla, rose, hmm, I have a honey one I haven't tried?”

Quentin... blushed a little, the color rising high in his cheeks. “I mean, whatever is fine. Um. You always smell nice, so.” He shrugged, peeking at Eliot through his bangs. “Just- um. Maybe you could sing too, while you're in there?”

“Any requests?” Eliot asked. “Besides the one that I'm definitely not doing.”

“Hah,” Quentin said, unamused. “But, um. Just something you like.” And Eliot smiled at him, and came over and kissed the top of his head, and Quentin blushed and blushed and blushed. Then Eliot left, the door of the bathroom cracked open, and they heard the sound of water starting up, and Eliot- Eliot was singing something she didn't recognize but that made Q smile a tiny bit.

“You seem... in a better mood,” she said, pulling one of her legs up on the bed so that she could get a little closer to him. “Are you feeling- better?”

“I- Um. Mostly not,” he said, and he looked down at his hands. “Eliot is being- being really over the top, I know, but he kinda- he kinda has to be? To break though, I mean. I still feel mostly. Really tired. But Eliot has had- he's had a lot of practice with me. When I'm like this.”

“He talked a little bit about it,” Alice said. “The lifetime in Fillory?”

And Q's smile warmed for a moment before fading away, and she wondered what, exactly, he was remembering about that lifetime. Was it all Eliot or was some of it about the woman he'd married? What had she looked like? Alice knew that she... she wasn't really Q's _type_ , from what she'd seen when he wasn't with her, so she guessed- she guessed that woman – what had Eliot called her? Ariel? – she guessed that Ariel had been. Brunette. Sarcastic, with a cutting wit. Willing to- to tie Q down, maybe, and do all the things that Alice had never really been comfortable doing in bed.

“Yeah, he- uh, I mean, I stopped taking my meds after Fogg- but they just didn't _exist_ back then in Fillory, so even when things got really bad, we didn't have a lot of options. So, El and- El came up with a system, and it helped him to know how broken my brain was, so he knew whether he should leave me alone or if I needed- needed people to-” He twisted his mouth in- in frustration. “-to _take_ _care_ of me.” He gave a helpless little shrug, and it was- it hurt. To see that self-loathing dripping off him again, like she'd seen it during the secrets trial back during their first year together. She wanted to- to hold his hand, to reassure him that he wasn't- he wasn't broken but.

But she didn't think she could take it if he flinched again when she touched him.

“It's not a... a failure to need people sometimes,” she said instead. It was a lesson she was still trying to learn herself, so she wasn't surprised when Quentin just laughed a little and leaned back against the headboard. “Q... Quentin. Did you- when you asked me to be in your life, what did you actually want from me?” He opened his mouth and she held up a hand quickly, and he tilted his head and waited for her to continue, his tongue resting on the upper bow of his mouth. “Um. I mean, what specific things did you want me to do – did you actually _want_ me to kiss you or- or was kissing just something you felt was wrapped up in me being 'in your life' or- or-”

Quentin studied her for a long moment, so long that Eliot had changed songs, and now it was something that she vaguely recognized, but still couldn't have named. Q was- distracting like this, hair messy and no shirt and tongue peeking out of his mouth, and that's what she'd fallen for, before. He'd been _pretty_ and-and he'd wanted to forgive her and trust her, and she hadn't looked past all that to see what she could see now – that sad, sad lost look in his eyes.

“I wanted-” He sighed, his head thumping back against the wall. “I don't know, Alice. We were in love once and- and we went to Brakebills South and I met- I met _that_ Alice again and she- I guess I wanted to try to make things right before- to make things right. At least with one person.”

“Before what?” She sat very very still and watched him. His eyes closed and he just- just stayed silent for a while, breathing.

“Fuck.” He opened his eyes but he didn't- he didn't look at her, instead focusing on the other side of the room, on his own hands, on window, on anything except her. “Jesus, Alice. Before I died, okay?” And once he said it, it was like all the air left his body and he just- just collapsed in front of her and she did- she did reach out then, wrapping herself around him in a hug and he- he flinched and he shivered and then he held onto her like he was drowning. “I've just been- so fucking tired. Tired of helping a monster hurt people. Tired of watching my- my friend get puppeted around and treated like his- his life didn't matter. Tired of- of working and working and it all being fucking _meaningless_ in the end. I just felt- god, so fucking hopeless. And I- even now when I know it worked and Eliot is alive, I still feel- I feel-” and he was clutching at his chest, his hand gripping and releasing- “I fucking _panic_ every time he leaves the goddamn _room_ because I keep expecting that monster to pop up behind me. And I just- I just wanted to rest. Is that- is what you wanted to... _I don't know_ , _Alice_. I don't know what I wanted from you. I don't even fucking know what I want from me.”

“Okay,” she said, and her voice was broken and young but she couldn't fix it right now. “Okay. So. We take it back, okay? We skipped- we skipped a step. I should have... I should have said, hey Q. _Thank you_ for wanting to trust me. Let's... let's be friends for a while before we think about anything else, huh? Because. It kinda seems like that's what we both need, right – more friends?” And she stroked through Q's hair and tried to hold him together. “Do you want-- should I ask Eliot back in? Are you worrying about him?” And he nodded into her hair, so she raised her voice, “Eliot? Are you- are you done?”

There was a moment's pause, then Eliot appeared in the doorway, wet and naked and- and _scared_. He climbed up on the other side of the bed, already talking – saying Q's name and reminding him of things that Alice didn't recognize but that got a shaky nod of reaction from Q.

“I'm sorry,” Alice said, pulling away once Eliot had wrapped himself around Q. “I didn't mean to-” He looked up at her and gave her a soft sad little smile and then pressed himself back around Q, still whispering reassurances. She backed out of the room, not able to stop looking at Q and Eliot until she was all the way out the door. She held onto the railing tight as she made her way down the stairs, and shivered at the angry look Julia gave her as she swept back up and into Eliot's room again.

She looked at Penny and said, miserably, “Can you please- could you-?” And he took her by the hand, and they were gone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a reference to step 4 of Alcoholics Anonymous: "Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves".


End file.
